The Drizzling Laments of a Wagon-Hauler: Ghost Hats Not Included
by Nate-kun
Summary: In which Calem and Serena trudge through an incredibly muddy route in the middle of a freezing rainstorm, have an argument which ultimately leads to nothing, and bitch and moan about how the spookiest night of the year is ruined by an unforgiving stream of god piss. Kalosshipping, fluff, they also wear spooky crap, bite me. There's also a spooky skeleton if you look hard enough.


**You see, normally I wouldn't be shitting all these stories out of my wazoo all at once for the sake of simultaneous reader delight (I'd much rather bait their anxiousness for new material for about a week), but it's the holidays, so I decided to give you all a break and provide you with another treat to drool over as you do whatever it is you plan to do tonight. Happy Halloween, essentially. You can thank me for your double-dose of weekly Kalosshipping later.**

**So, I typed this lovely piece of crap out at 12:49 AM, approximately. Why? Well aside from the fact that rain has been incessant over here, later tonight I have to spend the night giving candy to everyone, and I can't necessarily write about what is objectively the best X/Y pairing ever while I'm doing that. Those kids would think I'm gay.**

**. . . Ahem. Moving on.**

**So, you may be wondering how you can help me out, on this, the most spookiest night of the year. Since we're great buddies and I appreciate our relationship, I'll tell you: Review. That's it, simply, review. Straight to the point. It doesn't matter if you liked it, hated it, don't have anything to say, or even have concrit, what ****_does _****matter is that you had the generosity to review, and ****_tell me _****what ****_you _****thought. Because guess what? When you tell me what's up, I know stuff in return, it lets me know you're reading, it lets me know that I gotta get off my ass and work more, and it lets me that there's a fifty-fifty chance you wanna see more. If you don't even feel like doing that, even a favorite would help. Thanks in advance for your courtesy. I really appreciate it.**

**Word Count: 1949 words.**

* * *

The Drizzling Laments of a Wagon-Hauler: Ghost Hats Not Included

_Don't look behind you. There's like, a ghost. It goes oogity, boogity, boogity, boo._

* * *

"Anymore bright ideas, **_professor?_**"

Rain.

That's it, rain. That's what sparks the sarcasm.

The phrase, 'rain on your parade' is an extreme understatement when it comes to the two, and even then it doesn't come close to nicking at the surface of their tirade of an ordeal.

The long, seemingly endless route is drenched in water pouring from the unforgiving skies. It's like a maze, an apparently simple, yet daunting labyrinth all at the same time.

The rain is so harsh, neither he nor she can see what's up ahead. All either of them aware of is that the path to the next town is on the route they are on, and that's that. Nothing more, nothing less.

The tall grass is empty, no Pokemon in sight, not even Water-types would care enough to indulge in such stormy weather. By no means was it unbearable for them, it just '_isn't worth it_', so to speak.

The trees are covered in the clear piss of the gods, dripping droplets all over the place. Some catch his tree-stump hat and red cap by surprise, but most simply target his jacket, which isn't nearly big enough to act as decent warmth.

"How was I supposed to know we were to have showers **_this _**bad?"

Calem grunts as he puts in all his might to toil her along, "When you told me it was '_only __going to be a light sprinkle, Calem! We're fine as long as we make it to the next town, Calem! Buying an umbrella is a waste of money, Calem! You're not going to need it, Calem!_"

He's not very good at imitations.

Serena twirls her own umbrella in her hands, brought with her straight from home, "Again, I'm sorry. Didn't think it would be this terrible. Can you stop chiding me for it, please? I just want to get to the next Center as soon as possible, take a shower, maybe get some rest."

With another tiring grunt, he wipes the rain drops accumulating on his face. However, with each wipe, more splatters don his reddening cheeks, "Not until you share that umbrella, you're gong to give me a cold!"

Her response is like the weather.

"No. I don't want to get my dress wet. You also can't pull _and _hold onto the umbrella at the same time."

Cold. And it's not even December yet.

Thanks in full part to the rain, the route's trail is incredibly muddy. A mixture of muck and soiled rain water that could call for the worse of damage to anyone's fashion statements.

It's because of that same unbearable mire that he's pulling a wagon through the uncooperative dirt sludge, all his strength (or what little there is.), only resulting in minor inch budges here and there.

Serena sits elegantly in the semi-rusty red wagon, like an esteemed lady would.

Calem wouldn't really label her as such right now, however. With another grunt, he lets out a sigh, and ponders out loud.

"Are you really going to make me pull you on this thing? _All the way?! _Why can't you just walk!?"

Her answer is similar and no less painful than the previous. She makes her statement relevant by lifting her leg, and gently prodding Calem's tush from behind with it.

It feels nice and he feels salaciously indecent for liking it.

"I don't want to get my shoes dirty."

As if on cue, one final valiant tug from the boy inches their cart a marginal distance further, "I might as well just carry you the whole way. This is beginning to get **_super _**pointless..."

Instantly, there is rejection with resistance so high that it denies all logic, "No. Someone will see us, and..._and they'll say stuff._"

His retort shows some signs of exasperation, rare for the naturally positive-accentuating boy, "Is that going to be your catchphrase excuse for everything? We're in the middle of a storm! Y'know, if you just _haven't _noticed."

Her stance goes from elegant to uneasy, she hugs herself while keeping a steady grip on the umbrella.

"Maybe I just don't want your gross breath on my neck."

"I brush twice and you know it!"

Serena pouts. At the same time, Calem sneezes because she is indeed inflicting him with something.

And it's not a cold.

"I'm going to get tired of hugging your neck, you'll drop me straight into the mud."

He hums aloud a tune he makes up on the spot, contemplating over her new excuse.

"Mmm, it could make for an amusing photo!"

"It could make for a nice slap on your face."

Calem shudders because he's well aware that she means business. The rain is still pouring hard, and although it's still as cold as the dickens, they're beginning to get used to it.

With a mumble of the old-saying, '_heave-ho_', Calem takes them further down the endless path.

"So, am I at least going to get a reward for doing this? I'm going to be freaking soaked by the time we reach the room, you better have something in mind."

Her hold on the umbrella rod tightens, she hoped he wasn't going to be asking those types of questions, "I don't know. You get to shower with hot water first?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of _us showering togeth-_"

"Don't even bother." her rebuttal is laced with annoyance, and it strains him quite a bit.

Calem rolls his eyes. At the very least, it was _an _attempt, a failed effort, but an attempt nonetheless. He takes a brief pause in his harrowing tug to look up into the sky.

There isn't any end in sight.

"Can we cuddle tonight, then?" he asks, a bit more softly than his earlier responses.

As is her's, "You always end up doing it anyway, I'm too tired to complain by then, what's the point?"

"I'd feel content with knowing that I have your permission for once."

Calem can hear the girl murmur something, but the rain blocks him from hearing it. He hopes it's a yes of some sort.

His next tug is quite a tough one, he almost causes her to lose balance.

"Watch it."

"Got it."

He takes this moment, this fleeting moment in the middle of an unruly storm smack dab in the middle of Route Whatever-It-Is, to ponder once again about their ever-fluctuating dynamic. Here he is, going out of his way to pull Serena on a wagon, all because she doesn't want to get dirty, and he's willing enough to do it.

Calem wonders how whipped he has become, and whether or not it's a bad thing.

The fact remains that she's really beautiful, astounding even, perhaps even both of those words combined couldn't be enough to describe her in full detail. This isn't even considering the fact that he's blatantly trying to get her attention, wooing her at every turn, like an old miner trying to use a pick axe to break up a block of pure ice.

He genuinely yearns for the heart inside of that ice, but at the same time, fears that the situation might not be mutual. There are times when she's merciless, unrelenting, and downright harsh on him. But in hindsight, that could be because she worries for him, something supported by her infrequent acts of endearment. A hug or something to that effect.

Hugs are okay, but they're nothing to flaunt about.

Her beauty, or at least how he sees it, is only doubled by her current attire. A costume meant to commemorate the ghoulish day of frights and what-have-you. He has a spooky hat for a similar occasion, though why he chose to wear it over his head is a new mystery altogether.

He goes out with it.

"That Pumpkaboo dress looks really cute on you, y'know."

Serena counters back with a notation of her own.

"Thanks, your Phantump hat would look less stupid if you weren't wearing your normal hat."

He takes her advice.

He doesn't know why, but he does. The hat is gone, ditched from his head, it's now in his free hand.

As that goes on, Serena stares off into the fields surrounding the trail. They hold quite an unsettling air about them, convenient given the day and the shitty weather accompanying said day.

Rain continues to pitter and patter vehemently on her umbrella.

"Are we almost there yet?" she asks, well aware that they're obviously no where where they need to be, but it's fun to believe in '_comforting_' lies sometimes.

"Huh. Never in a million years did I think you'd actually ask _that._"

"Yes, even patient people can lose their patience once in a while. You can thank that to the **_freezing _**rain that's all around us!"

Calem stops right in front of a fork-in-the-road, putting a thankful and much-needed conclusion to the endless path, only to make things worse by splitting said path into two.

Neither of their eyes are good enough to discern which path goes where.

"Crap... Which way do you want to go?"

"The _right_ way."

"Eh? But what that way doesn't lead to the next tow-?"

Serena interjects before he can continue to misinterpret her, "No, no, no. I meant the _right _way. I want us to go into the right direction, not take the _right_ path. There's a difference, you know."

Befuddled beyond belief, the boy frantically waves his hands, "Well which path is the _**right** _path then?!"

"I _don't _know! I'm a trainer, not a navigator." yet, just for his own sake, she takes gander down each path. Once down the left, once down the right. Of course, she can't make up shit either, but it was an effort.

The girl makes a bold guess while wiping some droplets trickling down her arm, "Let's just go left, if it's the wrong way we'll turn back and go in the other direction. Make it quick though, the rain is getting tougher and I'm starting to get really soaked."

"Welcome to my world."

She _would _snark back, if she had something to say.

In the end, she lets him have that one. _Just _that one and nothing more. As they travel down the left route, she starts to get a little more bored, and Calem can see it.

"Say," he says in midst of giving a slight tilt adjustment to his Phantump hat, "do you want to hear a scary story? It is that time of year after all, and I'm pretty sure it'll be too late to join in on any festivities when we get there anyways."

She cocks her head, "Oh, what? Hear a scary story from _you? _Let me guess, does a skeleton pop out of a closet and start to dance?"

'_Damn. She can read me like a book.'_

Calem doesn't let her know that though, it would show weakness, which he's already shown more than enough of to her anyways. For fuck's sake, he's dragging her in a wagon, that's how much he wants _it. _

What he does let her know is something else altogether, something extremely obvious to anyone with half a mind to pay mind to their conversations, something that lets her know that he appreciates her remembering his shitty story that he only told _once _before to her, a number of months ago.

The fact that she's making sure to remember such small and forgettable memories is cute, and makes his heart flutter. So much to the point, that he again, feels need to push for a gamble.

"I love you, **_so much _**right now."

In return, Serena gives her umbrella a twirl, and non-nonchalantly looks away from him.

"So I've heard..."


End file.
